


"You don't own me". - [ The Joker - One shot]

by A_Wolf



Category: DC Cinematic Universe, DCU (Comics), Echelon - Fandom, Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: A.Wölf, Other, Tumblr: theartofimagining13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 04:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7920430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Wolf/pseuds/A_Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone mysteriously helps The Joker escape Arkham. He’s brought back to Gotham to find some very interesting changes and discover who’s the ruler of his former kingdom.</p><p>Also based on: Imagine: Being The Joker’s tattoo artist and him always getting turned on while you work on his new ink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"You don't own me". - [ The Joker - One shot]

**Originally posted at** : [The Art of Imagining](http://theartofimagining13.tumblr.com/).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

                                                                  

                                        [](https://67.media.tumblr.com/d6b1587773f40d23b27deb21e7b024ee/tumblr_ocrmt8ucwG1ug10e0o2_500.gif)         

**[[ Music ] ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8SeRU_ZPDkE) **

* * *

A clap of thunder resonated through the night sky.

Lightning lit up Arkham Asylum.

Inside the building, a psychiatrist’s heels echoed as she walked along the corridor. She stood before a cell guarded by two burly male nurses. One of them unlocked the door for her and she walked in carrying a travel bag; there was a metal table at the center and a man sitting at it.

Lightning struck once more making his green hair come to life, glistening for the mere seconds it lasted. In a straitjacket, The Joker leaned over the table to get a good look at the doctor as she took a seat across from him and placed the travel bag next to her feet.

_-I’ve been meaning to say this for a while now, doctor._ –He said.

The woman looked at him pursing her red lips and adjusting her glasses.

_-Could you scratch my nose?_ –The Joker asked in a serious tone, only to let out a guttural giggle afterwards which was interrupted when the psychiatrist put her arm around his neck, leaning over the table.

The Joker narrowed his eyes menacingly but was unable to read her. Before he knew it, she crashed her lips against his, passionately. He grunted when a familiar flavor invaded his mouth. He suddenly remembered one of Harley’s favorite lipsticks; a red-violet one that tasted like grapes.

The doctor let her tongue dance with his briefly before pulling away. The Joker clenched his jaw feeling a small object between his teeth. With his eyes fixed on hers, he spat out a key that clinked once it landed on the metal surface.

The doctor grabbed the travel bag and threw it on his bed. The Joker caught a glimpse of its padlock. She lifted her skirt enough to reveal a knife thigh holster. The green haired man widened his eyes when she stood behind him and cut the straitjacket open to liberate him, and without a word, she left the cell.

The Joker stood up and unlocked the bag to find his black trousers, shoes, white button down and suspenders. The pile of clothes was covering a machine gun. He smirked, and in less than 8 minutes, the asylum staff had been massacred and all the patients set free.

* * *

The Joker exited the building for the first time in 2 years.

As soon as the first raindrop hit the concrete, his purple Lamborghini pulled up and the psychiatrist opened the passenger door for him from the inside.

* * *

The Joker entered a tattoo parlor, still unsure of who was behind all of it but taking every opportunity and enjoying his freedom. A female tattoo artist was preparing her gun and ink but she stood in front of him and started unbuttoning his shirt before beckoning him to sit down.

She stared at his bare chest, focusing on the jester on his right side which was half done. Ready to start completing it, she grabbed the gun and as soon as the needle touched The Joker’s skin, he sighed heavily with pleasure, feeling the kind of pain he was addicted to. It made his heart race, breath hitch, and aroused him. But when he realized which tattoo she was working on, he gripped her wrist and sat up.

_-Who do you work for?_ –He growled.

His purring was the only sound that could be heard in the room for she didn’t say a word. The Joker let go of her and furrowed his eyebrows when he remembered how Harley used to love that jester. It was her favorite tattoo and she didn’t get to see it finished.

The last time The Joker was put in Arkham was also the last time he had seen her. Maybe even killed her when he drove off a bridge and into a lake while escaping from a crime scene and Batman. He knew Harley couldn’t swim but did it anyway and saved himself without looking back. All in vain since The Dark Knight found him and put him in the asylum a couple hours later.

The Joker grunted when the needle penetrated his skin again, bringing him back to the present time.

* * *

_-Good to have you back, boss._ –The tattoo artist said motioning at the door in the back when she was finally done.

The Joker studied her, slightly surprised by the title and respect. Whoever had broken him out was aware of his old status in Gotham and wanted him to regain his power and kingdom.

Once he fixed his shirt again, he opened the door which led to a dark hallway. It was a secret passage. His lips parted when he entered a familiar place; the club he and Harley used to own but with some interesting and abrupt changes.

Muscular men danced inside the clear plastic cages instead of women. No waitresses could be seen only waiters, and costumers were nearly all women.

The Joker’s eyes roamed the place in fascination and genuine curiosity but then his heartbeat faltered when they landed on a throne. A gold chaise longue that rested on the club’s main stage and whoever sat on it could watch the whole place, guard it perhaps.

Harley Quinn was the one lying on it, looking like a chaotic and colorful Cleopatra, wearing a jester crown and a black and gold dress as she supervised her queendom.

The loud music drowned her loud giggle but the Joker could see her throwing her head back. Her eyes finally met his and her expression changed with a fading smile. Her eyes glistened and her chest started rising a little bit faster with every breath she took. Nothing, not his ruthless actions, not even time could change her feelings for The Joker. Her happiness was written all over her face and she finally showed an evil smirk.

He returned it, realizing that it was Harley who had broken him out of the Asylum, and that every act had her signature; she had let him know it was her from the moment the psychiatrist kissed him but he thought her dead. He had missed her in his own way and felt somewhat proud, but that would never stop him from hurting her again if he had to. Deep down… Harley knew it.

Nonetheless, she had become the Queen during his absence, did things her way, and Gotham, was now ruled _by evil women._

                                            


End file.
